#they're so nearly in high school

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Jacob: I didn’t really see him that much anyway, y’know? Like he wasn’t a dad dad to me. Jude: It’s alright for you then. Jacob: At least you get to stay at Robin’s now, it’s like a sleepover every weekend! Jude: I guess-.. everything’s still weird though. [Jacob shrugged, unsure what else to say; he didn’t understand grownups any more than Jude did] Jude: I can’t believe dad n’ Pixie got to go on holiday without me. Jacob: Aren’t you going somewhere with your mom n’ Gavin in the summer holidays? Jude: I’d rather stay with dad then be bribed by my stupid soon to be step-dad… Jacob: Don’t tell her that. [Robin sighed, bored of his friends talking about grownups and their nonsense; there was enough of that at home without Jude and Jacob banging on about it all day as well. He almost felt grateful as Levi strode towards them, at least he’d change the subject] Levi: Any of you losers got a date for the dance yet? Jude: Not yet… Jacob: Who cares? Levi: I might ask Juniper later. Jude: You can’t! Levi: Oooh, why not? Jude: I mean-.. you could, but she wouldn’t say yes. Levi: Guess we’ll find out-.. what about you, Mutey? You could give someone a note or something, right? [Robin said nothing, much to Levi’s chagrin, eventually forcing him to continue without a response] Levi: Well.. three girls have asked me already, so you better hurry up or I’ll steal ‘em all. Jacob: [snorts] Like anyone would wanna go with you. Levi: I bet your mom would. Jacob: Which one? Levi: What? Teacher: C’mon, boys.. the bell rang five minutes ago. [Levi tensed slightly as Jude and Jacob wandered off, leaving him alone with Robin] Levi: Are you deaf as well? [Robin remained silent but passive, fascinated by Levi’s contradicting and tumultuous thoughts] Levi: I’m not actually gonna ask Juniper, I know she’s your cousin… [Robin shrugged; it wasn’t his business who Levi asked to some lame dance-.. Jacob was right anyway, who cared?] Levi: But if I did, she’d say yes. [Robin squinted; he wasn’t so sure about that] Levi: [scoffs] You’re creepy as hell, d’you know that? Always staring at people-.. such a weirdo. Teacher: Chop, chop, boys!

[quaranmine]

i wish there was a way to open google docs without pulling them up to the very top of recently opened documents. because sometimes i want to cause myself psychic damage with old writings but also they should just stay buried down in "last opened 2019" you know

actually post cancelled i just figured out you can make it sort by "last modified" instead of "last opened" which is probably more useful sorting metric for me anyway

[natjennie]

"why the FUCK would you defend this place" GAOUGUGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[zincbot]

rewatching the first episode of freshman year after the finale of junior year just makes fabian's arc hit so hard

[nylarac]

many thoughts in my head

[thelastspeecher]

btw of the Discworld books I've been reading over the last couple weeks, by far my favorite is Men at Arms and the reason is 50% there's really excellent writing, and 50% HOLY SHIT ANGUA AND CARROT ARE SO GOOD TOGETHER

[lostfracturess]

words you couldn't hear — satoru gojo

satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but someday—maybe someday soon—he'll tell you for real.

"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."

Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."

"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."

He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.

"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"

"It's a valid concern."

"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhere—"

You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing — well, mostly immune.

You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.

"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."

Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."

"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."

"What should I say?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."

His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.

"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"

Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.

You pause, catching the way he's looking at you — like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.

He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"

"The store closes in two hours."

"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

What you don't know — what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones — were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.

"I love you."

Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.

But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.

Maybe one day soon.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[seismologically-silly]

okay i think i'm back! i'm still missing my INSANE amount of tabs and windows (bane can back me up, that was wayyy too many), but i'll restock those in time. for now, it's weird but i'll live

[espresso1patronum]

I think there's been a glitch

megumi fushiguro! x f!reader (best friends to lovers?)

summary: you were supposed to be just friends. yes, you and megumi. you were both supposed to be normal high school classmates, with nothing more than platonic feelings between the two of you. you were his best friend, and you swore you'd never fall for him. so how did you end up pinned against him on his bed? this definitely isn’t the typical situation for best friends, is it?

warnings: afab!reader, swearing/cursing, both the reader and megumi are eighteen, best friends to lovers trope, high school au, teenagers being totally oblivious, fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn?

word count: 17.9k (HELP)

a/n: based on a small drabble i wrote and ya'll requested if i could make it a fic, your wish is my comand so here it is. this is the first part and there will be a second one. guys i'm totally in love with this one. it's rly cute and it's my bbg<3 i love how stupid and oblivious they are haha

"you asshole! give me my notes back!" you yelled as you ran and somehow caught up to megumi, pulling on his bag.

"your notes?" he scoffed. "they're mine, and you stole them from me," he said, yanking you off of him.

you rolled your eyes. "haha, yeah, they are your notes and maybe i did steal them from you, but still—why'd you take 'em back?" you said, trying to grab the papers from his hands, but he held onto your wrist, preventing you from doing so.

megumi sighed. "because they're mine? tsk..idiot; don't you have anything else to do other than annoy me every morning?"

yes, this was a typical morning for the both of you as you walked to school. you being the pesky little brat you were, and him being the nonchalant grump he was.

you’d practically known each other since elementary school, back when you were just six. you first met him when the teacher asked you to recite a poem, and you got stuck halfway through, while everyone else laughed—except for him. you were a stubborn girl back then, and you thought his lack of laughter meant he was being kind and wanted to be friends. but no, the truth was, he simply didn’t care.

but that didn’t stop you from becoming friends with him. in fact, he was the most mature six-year-old you’d ever met, with a sharp tongue to match. when he reluctantly agreed to be friends, you soon realized he had trouble connecting with other kids. yet, despite that, you two became inseparable, and ever since, you’ve been best friends. now, here you were, in the final semester of high school.

megumi was, without even trying, one of the most popular guys in school. despite being incredibly introverted and aloof, you couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to attract so much attention. his looks and academic performance turned heads, earning him the admiration of nearly every girl. and you? you felt like you might throw up. how could they like him? your stupid best friend? (you very well knew he was much smarter than you, but you couldn't help but despise all that attention he got)

you, on the other hand, were known as "the best friend of the cool guy"—the so-called cool guy. you absolutely hated that label. because you spent so much time with him, guys never showed interest in you, assuming you were dating him. it made you furious, especially now that high school was almost over, and you were already eighteen and you had never dated a guy. never. and you blamed megumi for that. maybe because he was always around you.

things have got to change or else i'll die single, alone and miserable. you thought.

"...and that’s how christopher columbus discovered america in 1492," your history teacher, professor yaga, announced. history was by far the most boring subject in your opinion. you could easily sleep through the entire class and never miss a thing. and that’s exactly what you were doing—dozing off while some students listened attentively, megumi being one of them, others pretending to pay attention, and a few, like you, already asleep. but of course, professor yaga had to single you out. "y/n! wake up, you sleepyhead!" he called out, tossing a piece of chalk at you.

"no, i didn't steal your candy-" you muttered, still half-asleep as you rubbed your eyes. the other kids couldn't help but laugh at your groggy response. professor yaga raised an eyebrow, his tone sharp. "you do realize this will land you in detention, miss l/n?"

you snapped awake, panic flooding your chest as you scrambled for an explanation. "please, sir, i swear i won't do it again," you pleaded, your voice almost a whisper.

fuck it, you fell asleep again.

he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "fine. but you'll submit your report tomorrow as your punishment." you nodded quickly, relief washing over you. it wasn't the worst outcome, but it was fair enough.

you felt that the world wasn't fair to girls like you. you weren't very social, and on top of that, you weren't the best academically—good, but not enough to meet your parents' expectations. you had zero experience with dating, and to make matters worse, you were a bit of a mess and a huge crackhead, sure that you probably weirded people out.

you had watched those romantic movies that nobara had forced you to watch. in them, the female lead's problems were always solved with the perfect kiss. you couldn't help but wonder, when am i ever going to experience that? when?

with megumi tagging along all the time with you, you wondered if you'd ever actually get a boyfriend.

your thoughts were interrupted as the bell rang, and you felt a tug behind you. "what do you want, fushiguro?" you asked, glancing as megumi sat down beside your bench.

"you might want to stay awake during history lectures, or you'll fail, idiot," megumi said nonchalantly.

"why do you care?" you replied, crossing your arms. "it's not like you're concerned for me, right?"

he deadpanned at you. "gojo will probably kill me then- 'it's your fault she couldn't concentrate,' he'll say."

"ugh, i knew it," you groaned, leaning on the table with your hands pressed to your forehead. "you don't give a fuck about me."

no. in fact, megumi did care about you a lot. it’s just that you were oblivious, and he was particularly good at hiding it. of course, megumi would care about the one person who knew him so well and liked him for who he truly was, even if you two often bickered over small things. that’s what best friends are supposed to be like, after all.

"no one does care, do they?" you asked, your face propped up on your chin as you scanned the classroom. megumi couldn't have bothered less, but you thought there were still yuji and nobara who would care for you.

megumi sighed. "stop being like this and get your miserable ass up," he said, walking away.

"wait for me, megumi!" you said dramatically, pretending to struggle as you tried to get up from your chair.

you followed him out into the hallway, arms crossed and brows furrowed as you shot him a sideways glance.

"umm..do you think i'll ever get a boyfriend?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

megumi barely looked at you as he walked, but you could swear you saw the tiniest smirk tug at his lips. "i don't know," he said, his tone flat. "with that attitude? probably not."

you threw your hands up in exaggerated frustration, swatting at his shoulder. "shut up, asshole!"

just then, a girl from another class caught sight of you both and grinned. "are you two dating? cute," she said, and suddenly, the world felt way too small as you both froze—embarrassed, awkward, and a little bit… cringe.

"no!" you both yelled at the same time, quickly glancing at each other before looking away, the tension hanging in the air.

it wasn't the first time. "are you and megumi a thing? you guys look cool together," people would ask, and every single time, you'd feel that weird mix of frustration and confusion.

megumi. your boyfriend? yeah, right. the idea was so ridiculous that you couldn't even picture it. the thought of it had you laughing to yourself. the thing was, megumi didn’t see you as a... girl. you’d both grown up together, shared countless memories, and spent more time bickering than anything else. to him, you were just you—his childhood friend, someone he’d known forever.

it didn’t matter how many times people asked or joked about you two being a couple. in megumi's eyes, you were always just… one of the guys. no, his guy. that's all. and maybe that was part of the problem.

you didn’t blame him, of course. it wasn’t like you had any experience with relationships either. but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how complicated it would be if things did ever change. that's why you swore not to fall for him. you told yourself over and over that it was just too complicated, that things would never work out between you two. you had a good friendship with megumi. that's all you wanted, nothing more than that. you couldn't risk messing it up.

and it wasn’t just you. megumi, in his own quiet way, had sworn the same thing. he was scared—scared that if things changed, if feelings got involved, he might lose you. and losing you was something he couldn’t even think about.

"i almost gagged," you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. megumi nodded in agreement, his expression unmoved. "i know, right? how can people say such absurd things?" he scoffed, the words dripping with arrogance. "you're a fool and i'm too good for you."

you shot him a glare, as you lunged towards him, practically trying to choke him.

"dare say that again, you—" you growled, stopping just short of him, eyes narrowed with irritation. megumi barely flinched, instead ruffling your hair, not bothered in the slightest way.

"like that could even do anything to me," he teased, clearly enjoying how easily he could push your buttons.

you groaned, throwing your hands up in frustration. "you're impossible," you muttered.

she looks kinda… cute when she's flustered, he thought, but then immediately froze, realizing what he had just thought. cute? her? what? his mind scrambled to make sense of it. what's wrong with me? he mentally shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, making him feel uncomfortably self-aware.

you pouted at him, crossing your arms with a dramatic huff. "you know what, megumi, if you keep acting like this, i'm going to stop hanging out with you," you said, trying to sound serious.

but megumi wasn’t paying attention. his mind was still stuck on that thought from earlier. why the heck did you have to pout like that? he couldn’t shake the image of your cute, frustrated expression. why was he feeling things? he frowned, trying to snap out of it, but his thoughts just kept drifting back to you.

just best friends. just best friends. he repeated in his mind, trying to ground himself. but then, the thought wouldn’t leave him. was it even possible to think your girl best friend looked cute? he wondered, his mind spinning. the more he tried to convince himself it was nothing, the more his heart seemed to disagree. something was definitely wrong with him.

trying to push the thought aside, megumi returned to his usual stoic expression. "what is it you were saying, y/n?" he asked, his voice colder now.

"unbelievable!" you crossed your arms, shaking your head in disbelief. "you know what, megumi? if you're being like this, i’m taking a break from you. i can’t spend every waking second with you. i have a life too, you know." you paused, frowning. "i’m going to agree with nobara, who’s been pushing me to go on a date. but i always said no before, why? because i thought you’d get lonely. but clearly, you don’t care. so don’t bother. don’t try to call me," you said, turning to leave.

you didn't know what came over you or why you said all that. maybe you really feared ending up alone and sad with zero experience in dating like a sore loser, just because you spent so much time with your best friend.

megumi's chest tightened at your words, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. "you’re the one who sticks to me. i don’t mind being left alone. you’re the one who bombards me with messages and calls. you keep saying you have a life? well, i have one too. so i don’t care if you go on a stupid date with some stupid guy," he snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

yes, he fucked up. and yes, he did care if you went on a stupid date with a stupid guy.

you scoffed, your voice sharp with frustration. "alright then, putting all our years of friendship at stake—this is what you wanted, right?" you turned and started walking away, leaving megumi standing there, his expression faltering.

he looked down, feeling a weight in his chest that only seemed to grow heavier by the second. really bad. the guilt settled in, a sinking feeling he couldn't shake off. what had he just done? why did he say those things?

why couldn’t he just say okay and move on like any other friend? why did it feel like his chest was tightening, like there was a lump in his throat every time he thought about you with someone else?

he hated the thought of it—hated how it gnawed at him, how it made his stomach twist. he couldn’t figure out why seeing you with another guy felt like it was something he couldn’t bear.

was it because he didn’t want to lose you? or was it something else?

ofcourse it wasn't. he was only genuinely concerned for you. sure.

this was the first time megumi realised that he was bad at lying to himself.

you didn’t talk to megumi for the next few days. every morning, you made sure to leave for school early, avoiding him entirely. you didn’t want him to have the chance to pick you up and walk with you like he usually did.

megumi, however, figured out your new routine quickly. he tried to follow your schedule, hoping to catch you, even just for a moment, but with each passing day, his efforts became less persistent. gradually, he stopped trying altogether. best friends don’t act like this, he thought, a bitter taste in his mouth. it felt wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more.

it had been a few days since everything had happened. it was a fight, but it lasted longer than you expected. sure, you and megumi had petty little arguments often, but you always made up quickly since neither of you wanted anything serious. but this time, it was different.

you were scribbling in the back of your notebook when the teacher's voice made your head snap up. "so, i'm going to be dividing you all into groups for this project. any volunteers?" the teacher asked as you returned to your scribbling.

"yn, what about you?" she called, pulling your attention back. you shifted in your seat, caught off guard. "uh, yeah, sure," you muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. the thing was, you didn’t mind projects, but you definitely didn’t want to be the group leader.

"any student you'd like to have as a co-leader?" she asked.

you scanned the room, your eyes briefly meeting megumi's. "no, i don't have a preference," you replied, deliberately avoiding his glare.

"alright then, i’ll make megumi your co-leader since you two worked well together last time," she said, and you nodded, sinking back into your seat.

you mentally cursed at yourself. no. this wasn’t supposed to happen.

the teacher assigned the rest of the groups, and you found yourself stuck with megumi and four other students.

you didn’t like this one bit. you had been hoping to avoid talking to him, but now, being in the same group, you wouldn’t have a choice.

"alright, I'm assigning the project file to you," megumi said, glancing at you.

you frowned.

he turned to look back at you. "what?" he asked. "nothing," you replied flatly. megumi had been quiet for a while, having tried to get you to talk to him, but with no success. to your frustration, he had started acting indifferent, as if you two had never been best friends.

you wanted him to worry. you wanted him to beg for your attention. but he didn’t even apologize, and that hurt. the reason for the fight had been petty, but you didn’t know what else to do. just then, nobara came running up, giggling as she threw her arms around your shoulders.

"woah, woah, calm down, bara," you said, holding her steady.

"omg, yn! guess what? i set you up on a date!" she squealed.

"what?" you blinked, narrowing your eyes. "what the fuck, nobara? why’d you do that?"

she looked at you skeptically. "you’re the one who told me the other day that you were going to date, or else you’d end up—"

you quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed. "yeah, yeah, i get it, but i didn’t mean right now."

you swear you saw megumi glaring at the two of you from a distance. "what’s up with you now, fushiguro? jealous that your ex-best friend finally got a date?" nobara teased, clearly annoyed.

megumi scoffed, his voice cold. "i'm looking at you because you’re making a commotion and being too loud," he muttered, walking away.

he didn’t seem to care. did he even listen to what nobara said? part of you wondered if he still cared at all, but another part of you felt like he didn’t—and that made you... sad.

you were walking down the corridor with nobara during break. "megumi didn't even apologize. i don’t know what’s wrong with him," you said, crossing your arms as nobara nodded in agreement.

"i mean, it's true that you'd never get a boyfriend with him always hanging around you," nobara added, making you frown and shove her playfully.

"well, anyways—" you started, but were cut off when someone stopped right in front of the two of you. you looked up and froze.

"hey there, yn," a voice you recognised from somewhere, spoke.

it was asahi.

he was tall, with black hair, a handsome face, and a presence that made him impossible to ignore. as the best basketball player at your school, he was surrounded by tons of girls, all of whom seemed to fawn over him. you had a teeny, tiny crush on him, but you never imagined he'd talk to you like this.

"hello asahi?" nobara said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"i fix you up on a date with her and you don’t even say hello to me? where are your manners?" nobara scoffed, and asahi chuckled lightly.

what? wait, a date?

suddenly, everything clicked. he was the one you were going on a date with?

"oh yeah, i forgot to tell yn that you're the one she’s going on a date with," nobara added casually.

you felt your face heat up. embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck. "h-h-hi, asahi," you stammered.

he smiled warmly at you. "you have a pretty smile, yn," he said, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

boom. you heard it.

and in that moment, you could swear you heard your heart skip a beat.

"why did you even agree to go on a date with me when nobara asked?" you asked asahi, a hint of confusion in your voice as he smiled.

"well, you got it wrong, yn," he replied, still smiling. "i was the one who asked her if you were single. i was the one who approached first."

you blushed furiously, caught off guard by his words.

for a moment, it felt as though the whole world had paused. your hair gently flowed in the breeze, and asahi was looking straight into your eyes, just like in the movies. suddenly, those cheesy scenes made sense.

"well, I’ll get going, yn. i’ve got your number from nobara, so i’ll text you later. and remember, it’s a date," asahi winked before walking off to join his friends.

you wanted to giggle, laugh, cry—anything, really. you had gotten your first date, and not just with anyone, but with asahi. you were bursting to tell megumi.

"wait, let me go tell megu—" you started, but then you stopped yourself.

oh right, i can't. i forgot.

nobara sighed. "girl, just leave him for now. you’ve got a date, don’t you? now all you need to do is wait for his text," she said with a knowing smile.

you nodded, but you felt empty somehow. "yeah, i guess so."

that evening, you found yourself lying on your bed, working on your homework while listening to your favorite song. you felt anxious, wondering if asahi would actually text you or if you’d end up waiting forever, only to be played by him. but he seemed too genuine for that—that's what you thought, at least, in that moment, through the lens of your teenage mind.

suddenly, your phone buzzed, and you jumped up to check the message. it was from megumi.

megumi: hi, i was wondering if our group could meet tomorrow at the café at 5 p.m. to discuss the project. be there.

you hesitated for a moment before replying, but eventually, you typed:

you: ok, fine.

you wanted to tell megumi about your date with asahi, but a part of you wanted him to feel the sting of not knowing. i won’t tell him, you thought. he’ll find out eventually.

just as you flopped onto your bed and closed your eyes, your phone buzzed again. you peeked at the screen—it was an unknown number.

asahi: hey yn! you free tomorrow at 5? if you are, i’ll pick you up! we’ll go to the movies.

you shot up, eyes wide in shock. oh my god, it’s asahi. you squealed, kicking your pillows in excitement, then grabbed your phone to reply.

you: hii asahi! sure, i’m free… you don’t need to worry about picking me up though.

the reply came quickly.

asahi: nah, don’t worry. i’ll come by ;)

the next morning, you found yourself laughing and chatting with nobara, showing her the messages on your phone.

"oh my god," nobara said dramatically, leaning closer to the screen. "he said he'd pick you up? what a true gentleman!"

you giggled, feeling a bit giddy. "i know, right?"

the thing was, you were young, naive, and inexperienced. boys like asahi had been dating and having casual flings since middle school, starting as early as eighth grade. deep down, you probably shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"wait, wait, yn! oh my god, close your eyes!" nobara exclaimed suddenly, pulling her phone out.

"why?" you asked, laughing as you obeyed.

"don't peek at my phone," she warned, scrolling frantically through her gallery. "okay, open up!"

you opened your eyes, and there it was—a picture of asahi. but not just any picture. this one showed him shirtless, his abs on full display.

his abs were well-defined, and his face matched—handsome and captivating.

"oh my goodness, i can't unsee this!" you gushed, your cheeks heating up.

"i got it off his instagram feed," nobara said smugly. "how good of a friend am i, right?"

you laughed and nodded, still staring at the image as if it might burn a hole in her phone screen. but then, out of nowhere, your mind betrayed you. instead of asahi, you suddenly pictured megumi in that photo—toned abs, a lean yet well-proportioned figure... wait, what? jesus fucking hell.

you blinked in shock, realizing where your thoughts had wandered. your little brain was conjuring up scenarios you’d never imagined before. why him? you wondered.

though asahi’s physique was undoubtedly athletic, in your mind, megumi’s leaner frame somehow looked better, more effortlessly attractive. you cursed at yourself, shaking your head in frustration.

what’s wrong with me?

you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed, as nobara sighed dramatically.

"i’ll get going now. i promised maki i’d meet her at the cafeteria. bye, yn! oh, and why don’t you go see asahi? he’s at basketball practice right now," nobara added with a smirk.

you smiled and nodded. yeah, maybe seeing asahi would help get your mind off megumi.

jogging down to the court, you spotted asahi practicing with his team. he looked incredible—playing effortlessly, weaving through his opponents, and landing perfect baskets. his confidence on the court was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

as you moved closer, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, his eyes meeting yours. he smiled instantly, making your heart skip a beat.

"guys, i’ll be back in a moment. keep practicing—good game!" asahi called out to his team before walking toward you.

your heart started to race as he approached, chugging a bottle of water. hot. that was all you could think.

"hey, yn. what’s up?" he asked casually, his voice smooth.

you tried to compose yourself, replying in a cute but natural tone, "umm, i’m here to see you."

he raised an eyebrow, a playful smile spreading across his face. "aw, you came to see me? well, how’d i do out there?" he asked, wiping his forehead again.

"you’re really cool, i must admit," you said, smiling as you gave his shoulder a light pat.

he let out a playful scoff. "pretty cool? i’m the captain of the team, miss. you’re really hard to impress, aren’t you?"

you could feel your heart flutter again—or maybe it was the thrill of this new kind of attention. whatever it was, it was exciting, unfamiliar, and intoxicating.

what you didn’t realize, though, was just how much others admired you. you always thought guys weren’t that into you, but the reality was far from it. you were different, and maybe that’s why someone like megumi cherished you so much.

"oi, asahi, come back in two!" one of his teammates called out.

asahi nodded and turned to you with a smile. "well, i gotta run," he said, glancing back at the court. then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "don’t forget—5 o’clock. i’ll come pick you up."

before you could reply, he reached for your hand and kissed it gently.

you froze.

it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to handle yourself in normal situations—it’s just that this was not normal. your brain short-circuited as you stood there, watching him jog back to the court. you were so stunned that you didn’t notice the soccer ball flying toward you from the opposite end of the field.

it was only when the ball was dangerously close that you realized what was happening. you dramatically thought, this is it. my time has come. the end is near.

but the impact never came.

something—or rather, someone—stopped the ball.

megumi.

he was standing right next to you, the ball in one hand, his body positioned between you and the potential danger. his expression was as unreadable as ever—calm, stoic, but commanding in a way that made you feel oddly safe.

"umm..." you began, but before you could say more, megumi turned his attention to the kid who’d come running over, clearly flustered.

"watch where you kick the ball," megumi said flatly, his voice firm but not overly harsh.

the kid stammered an apology, but megumi didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he tossed the ball into the air and kicked it back across the field with precise force. the movement was smooth, powerful, and, dare you think it, hot.

you mentally slapped yourself. seriously? what’s wrong with me today?

maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the fact that everything megumi did lately seemed to stand out to you in a way it never had before. you caught yourself wondering how strong he really was—something you never paid attention to before.

then, you remembered the start of the school term when megumi had effortlessly lifted you off the ground during some chaotic moment. at the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. but now? if that happened again, you’d probably lose your mind.

"umm, thanks," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze—not because you didn’t want to look at him, but because your cheeks were burning red.

megumi didn’t look at you either. "you’re welcome, i guess," he said. then, after a brief pause, he added, "try not to be a fool next time. keep your eyes opened idiot."

he cares. you couldn’t help but mentally dance at the thought, even though you knew he wouldn’t show any further emotion.

"well, what are you doing here?" you asked hesitantly.

he chuckled, and it sounded… odd. exhausted, perhaps, but there was something different about it. "i thought we’d stopped bugging each other," he replied.

"it’s not like that," you quickly cut him off. "megumi, I didn’t mean it that way."

"then what?" he shot back. "all the times i tried to apologize, and you didn’t even care."

"apologize? excuse me? that was your version of apologizing?" you snapped. "i told you we needed a break from being friends, and you didn’t even try to approach me. you just gave up and started acting indifferent."

"you’re the one going on a date with some random guy now," he muttered, almost to himself. his expression twisted slightly, and you realized he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

"why would you bring that up now?" you asked, scoffing. "if you’re so into not poking your nose into other people’s business, maybe you should start with yourself."

megumi rolled his eyes. "i don’t want to argue anymore," he said with a sigh.

"you’re the one who started it," you retorted.

both of you fell silent as the basketball team finished their practice and began heading off the court. neither of you said anything, instead looking away and sighing in unison.

just then, asahi approached you, flashing his signature grin. "remember, yn. 5 pm," he said with a wink.

you blushed furiously, giggling at his playful tone.

megumi, however, stared daggers at asahi’s retreating back as though he could burn a hole right through him. "what was that all about?" he asked coldly.

"i thought you wouldn’t—" you began, but megumi cut you off.

"no. just tell me." his voice was steady, but you could sense a strange concern behind it.

you gave in. "well… he’s the one i’m going on a date with," you admitted hesitantly.

for a split second, you thought you saw megumi’s face drop. but the moment passed quickly, and his usual ice-cold demeanor returned. maybe he wasn’t affected. but deep down, a part of you wanted him to feel jealous.

"well, good for you," he said, his tone indifferent.

but then he paused, as if something had just occurred to him. "wait. what about our meeting at 5 pm today?"

oh. you’d completely forgotten. between thinking about asahi all day and getting lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t remembered the plans you’d already made with megumi before agreeing to meet asahi.

"i… i won’t be able to make it," you admitted reluctantly. "i only said yes to you for formality’s sake. i already agreed to meet asahi first, and i can’t cancel on him—"

you lied.

megumi sighed sharply, cutting you off. "of course you can’t. enjoy."

before you could say anything else, he turned and walked away. his expression was unreadable, and there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment on his face.

but you wanted there to be. you wanted him to feel something—jealousy, sadness, anything.

and then it hit you. why did you want him to feel that way? unless… no. that wasn’t possible. was it?

you shook your head, trying to brush off the thought. megumi was your best friend—or, at least, he used to be. that was in the past now. or so you told yourself.

evening came, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. why am i doing this? am i hurting megumi? you wondered. but then again, he hadn’t shown any sign of being upset. he didn’t seem sad at all—maybe you were just overthinking.

you got dressed for your first date, opting for a cropped top that was just shy of being see-through. paired with baggy cargo jeans and some matching accessories, you looked cute—really cute, you had to admit. the only problem was the makeup. inexperienced and clueless, you turned to youtube tutorials for help.

"stupid mascara… ugh," you groaned as you struggled to get it just right. after thirty long minutes of trial and error, you finally managed to finish. the makeup was minimal but far more than what you usually wore. at least you didn’t look like a demon—you silently thanked the heavens for that.

when the clock struck the hour, you found yourself waiting at the nearby bus stop, where asahi had agreed to pick you up. He had a car. he had a license. he’s so cool, you thought to yourself.

just then, a sleek maserati pulled up right in front of you. he’s rich too? you thought in disbelief.

"yn, hi," he greeted you, his tone cheerful and confident. he exuded a cool and effortless charm, dressed in an oversized hoodie and casual pants. somehow, he managed to strike the perfect balance between not overdressing and not underdressing.

he stepped out of the car, opened the door for you, and extended his hand. blushing, you took it and got in.

the ride to the theater was fun—filled with lighthearted conversation about the movie and playful banter. before you knew it, you had arrived just in time, popcorn and soda in hand, ready for the film.

meanwhile, megumi was sitting in a café with the other students, working on the group project. he looked composed, as he usually did—calm and collected, the image of focus.

or so it seemed.

inside, his thoughts were anything but composed. the idea of you spending time with another guy, especially someone like asahi, made his blood boil. it’s nothing, he tried to convince himself. just brotherly feelings, that’s all.

this was the second time megumi realized how terrible he was at lying to himself.

the mental image of your soft, plump lips on asahi’s made his jaw tighten. his grip on his pen stiffened. what if he’s just using her? he wondered. what if she’s in danger? the thoughts raced through his mind relentlessly.

maybe i'm overthinking… but then, his mind conjured up something that made his pulse quicken: he imagined himself in asahi’s place, leaning in and kissing you instead.

damn it, he cursed under his breath. stupid teenage hormones. fuck them.

he shook his head, trying to banish the thought. no, this couldn’t happen. it didn’t matter if his feelings were “brotherly” or something else entirely. all he knew was that he had an overwhelming urge to storm into the theater, pull asahi away from you, and take you somewhere far away from him.

to megumi, you were still innocent—too kind, too naive to see through someone like asahi. he told himself it was concern for your well-being, nothing more. but deep down, even he wasn’t sure anymore.

his hand hovered over his phone, tempted to message you and cancel the meeting right now and run straight to you. no, he thought, clenching his fist. but the thought of you with asahi lingered, gnawing at him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

asahi and you were completely engrossed in the movie. as you reached for the popcorn, you felt a pair of fingers brush against yours. ah, yes—you were sharing the same basket of popcorn. it felt so fitting, like a classic movie moment come to life.

both of you turned your heads at the same time, your eyes meeting. maybe you had done it on purpose, hoping for this exact moment. asahi's gaze lingered on yours, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

"so, how’s it?" he asked, his voice warm and casual. the glow of the screen flickered in your eyes as you sat there, caught mid-bite with a mouthful of popcorn.

"umm, the popcorn? it’s buttery, but it could use some salt," you replied, earning a soft chuckle from him. ah, that laugh—it sent a flutter through your chest.

"no, silly. i meant the movie," he said, grinning as he casually draped an arm over your shoulders.

you laughed awkwardly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep over you. "haha, yeah, i knew that," you said, trying to play it off. "it’s good."

"hmm," he whispered softly, leaning in closer. you could feel it—the heat between you. then, with one hand, he gently tilted your face toward him. oh no, he was going to kiss you. you had never done this before—at least, not with an actual person. your plushies and pillows had been your only practice partners, and even they wouldn’t prepare you for this.

as you leaned in as well, closing your eyes, the lights in the theater suddenly turned on, and people began getting up to leave. the movie was over. how embarrassing. asahi chuckled at your flustered state, his warm laugh making your cheeks burn even more.

"maybe next time," he muttered to himself, his voice almost teasing. you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do, when he suddenly got a notification on his phone.

"well, i gotta run to the washroom. i'll be quick, okay? wait for me outside," he said with a smile, squeezing your hand before heading off. you nodded and walked out of the theater.

the cold air outside hit you instantly, making you regret wearing just a crop top. the clouds had taken over the sky, dark and heavy, and it looked like it could rain any moment now. you stood there, replaying the events of the day in your head. it had been your first date—and asahi was perfect. just like someone straight out of a movie. but it had all felt almost too perfect, like it wasn’t quite real. the only thing missing had been the kiss, which was sadly interrupted. you couldn’t help but blush at the memory.

when you glanced at your phone, you realized it had already been ten minutes since asahi went to the bathroom. you weren’t trying to be impatient, but you wondered what was taking him so long. a knot of worry formed in your stomach. deciding to check, you headed toward the bathrooms.

what you saw froze you in place. there, just outside the bathroom, was asahi—kissing another girl.

you blinked, hoping you were imagining it, but no. it was real. his lips were on hers, his hands resting on her waist. there was no mistaking it. it wasn’t the movie-like moment you had hoped for—it was a nightmare.

your chest tightened as tears began to prick your eyes. you wanted to scream at him, to demand an explanation, to ask if you weren’t good enough. but no. he didn’t deserve that from you. you had something he clearly lacked—self-respect and pride. so, instead of confronting him, you turned and walked away.

but the tears wouldn’t stop. they rolled down your cheeks, hot and uncontrollable, as you replayed what you had just seen. your heart ached with betrayal. were all boys like this? trash?

no. not all boys. you thought of megumi. he’d never do something like this. he’d never hurt you like this. suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to go to him. to tell him you were wrong. to tell him you wanted him—not just as a friend, but as something more.

but how could you? after everything you’d said to him, after how you’d pushed him away? he probably wouldn’t even look at you now. that thought made the pain in your chest feel even heavier.

ha, how ironic, you thought. your first date and heartbreak on the same day. why did all this happen to you? you had been too naive to trust asahi. he was a playboy, and he played you. the one thing you had looked forward to was now the thing you dreaded. you didn’t want to date anymore; you didn’t even want to see anyone again. it had started raining, and you were running. where? you didn’t know. just running, hoping to disappear, to escape from everything and everyone.

megumi was done with the project work and had closed everything off. luckily, you had left your location services on. feeling an urge to check where you were, he opened the app, and to his surprise, you weren’t at home or the theater. you were somewhere in the middle of town.

"what the heck?" he mumbled, grabbing his jacket and bag before running out the door. he knew where you’d go. whenever you got sad, you always ran to the park downtown. his intuition told him something was wrong. not that he wanted to jinx it, but maybe he’d already called it.

he ran through the rain without an umbrella, his clothes getting soaked, until he finally caught sight of you. you were kneeling down on the wet ground, crying. he rushed over to you.

"hey, y/n, what happened?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

the moment you heard his voice, you recognized it. your red and puffy eyes blurred your vision, but you didn’t care. you stood up and threw yourself into megumi’s arms, your face pressed against his chest. he held you closer, his warmth shielding you from the cold rain.

"what happened? tell me," he said gently, his voice calm though worry was evident.

tears were rolling down your cheeks, hot and uncontrollable.

"hic—uh… asahi… h-he hic… k-kissed… another g-g... girl..." your words barely made sense, but megumi understood.

"it's alright, idiot. stop crying," he said softly, his hand gently brushing away your tears. but inside, his anger was rising. he wanted to do something, anything, to wipe that smug look off asahi’s face. he wasn’t as calm as he usually was anymore. his protective instincts kicked in, and all he wanted was to make asahi regret hurting you.

you took a few seconds to calm down, still whimpering and hiccuping as megumi rubbed your back soothingly. he was there—always. no matter what, he stayed by your side, and deep down, you knew he always would.

suddenly, a pang of guilt hit you. you had hurt him.

"umm, m-megumi, well, i-i wanted to say sorry," you said, looking up into his eyes. they glimmered in the faint moonlight, his figure shielding you from the rain. his eyes softened as he met your gaze.

"sorry? why?" he asked, though you knew he understood.

"w-well, i was wrong," you began, your voice trembling. "i was selfish and inconsiderate, for both of us. i was just desperate to get myself a boyfriend… and look at how i ended up." tears threatened to spill again, but megumi hushed you, gently placing a finger on your lips.

"you little idiot," he said, his tone affectionate despite the words. "don’t you understand? sure, if you hung out with me, you probably wouldn’t get one. but… i think it’s my fault too. i didn’t give you enough space to breathe either. though…" he hesitated, a faint curse escaping under his breath. "no matter what, i’d hate to see you date someone else."

his words hung in the air. his eyes widened slightly, realizing what he’d just said out loud.

"what?" you asked, stunned, your eyes wide with surprise.

"never mind," he mumbled quickly, shaking his head. "i meant i’d be sad if you left me alone, that’s all. are you seriously so dumb that your mind clings to stuff like that?"

you laughed softly, the sound light and genuine despite everything, and pulled him into another hug. with megumi, you felt safe. you felt… okay. asahi didn’t matter anymore, and you realized it now.

you let yourself sink into the moment, listening to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain. the two of you were drenched, but neither of you seemed to care. the sound of water sliding down rooftops, trickling from the playground slide, and pooling in puddles filled the air.

then you noticed something else: your heartbeat. it was fast. thump-thump. had it always been this fast? no, it felt different. abnormal, even. but it couldn’t have anything to do with megumi, of course not. it had to be everything you’d been through tonight… obviously.

but then you caught the scent of his cologne. it was fresh, like dewy mist, and you couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, inhaling it deeply. wait. what was that?

you felt something in your stomach. a flutter. you blinked. parasites? you thought to yourself, trying to rationalize it. it’s definitely not butterflies. no, it couldn’t be. of course not.

you just hoped you were right—because the last thing you wanted now was to fall for your best friend.

megumi broke the hug and stepped back. "i think if you’re done, maybe we should go. and seriously, what the heck, we’re completely drenched," he said, glancing down at his soaked clothes. "my clothes are totally ruined now."

without waiting for a response, he grabbed your hand and started running. you followed, your feet splashing through puddles.

"where are we going?" you asked as he suddenly stopped, looking around.

"let’s just find some shelter and call a taxi," he replied. but then his eyes landed somewhere they really shouldn’t have, and he cursed the heavens.

you were wearing a thin, nearly see-through crop top that had clung to your skin in the rain. megumi swallowed hard and looked away immediately, his jaw tightening as he tried to stay composed. okay, this is normal. i’m a teenage boy too, he thought, though the pink flush creeping up his face betrayed him.

he was thankful, at least, that you were completely oblivious. thank god, he thought.

"cover up, you idiot," megumi said, his tone sharper than intended, but his voice still flustered.

"huh?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion, still unaware of the situation. megumi sighed, grumbling under his breath. why can’t she just read the room? he thought.

he swung his bag off his shoulder and tossed it to you. "here, use this. just—cover up."

you did as he said, though you still seemed confused. megumi let out another sigh, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it over both of you, shielding you from the rain.

you smiled up at him then—a bright, genuine smile. it was the kind of smile that could probably make any guy melt. but megumi wasn’t any guy. at least, that’s what he told himself.

until now.

seeing that smile made his cheeks flush even deeper, and he had to look away, cursing under his breath. damn. just hormones. nothing else, he told himself, trying to stay rational.

but then another thought slipped in, unbidden. why does she have to look so adorable... and hot? at the same time? he frowned, questioning his sanity.

fuck fuck fuck.

best friends. just best friends, he repeated to himself like a mantra, desperate to believe it.

but the truth was harder to ignore now. this was the third time something about you had struck a chord deep inside him.

megumi wished he was better at lying to himself.

after a while of waiting, you got into a taxi with megumi. "so, we’ll just head home now?" he asked, glancing at you. you nodded but hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"yeah, about that… my parents are out of town, and i-i was gonna be alone, so i wondered if i could bunk with you tonight? for old times’ sake?" you asked, your voice unsure but hopeful.

for old times’ sake? sure. but for his own sanity’s sake? absolutely not, megumi thought.

"yeah, works," he said, trying to sound casual. but deep down, he knew this was going to test every ounce of self-control he had.

the ride to his house was short, and as you sat in silence, you started reflecting on how the night had turned out. it had been such a mess, yet here you were, feeling strangely okay.

you glanced at your phone, which was still on do not disturb, and weren’t surprised to see 13 missed calls from asahi. you shrugged and sighed, shaking your head. none of that mattered now.

no one was home at megumi’s place either. the realization that you were both alone together made your stomach twist and turn, though you didn’t quite understand why. his sister, tsumiki, had a school function and was out of town as well.

"well, come in," megumi said, hanging the keys on the rack. the sound of the keys jingling filled the otherwise quiet house as you took off your shoes and stepped inside.

the place felt so familiar, as it always had. you’d been coming here for the past twelve years of your life. it was like a second home.

the two of you headed upstairs to his bedroom. as expected, it was neat and tidy, just like megumi always kept it.

"i think you should take a bath and change into something..." he said, rummaging through his closet. after a moment, he pulled out a hoodie and a pair of shorts. "...there you go," he added, tossing them to you.

you caught the clothes and stared at them for a moment. and then it hit you. this is exactly like one of those cliché book plots, you thought. the one where the girl has no spare clothes, so the guy lends her his.

while you were lost in your thoughts, megumi was having his own internal struggle. how cute would she look in my clothes? the thought slipped into his mind before he could stop it, and his cheeks turned pink.

both of you glanced at each other briefly, the blush on your faces obvious, before quickly looking away. completely oblivious to what the other was thinking, you stood there, awkward and flustered, two idiots caught in your own spiraling thoughts.

not even god could save the two of you from this moment. as much as you both hated the idea of picturing each other together, neither of you could completely deny the thought anymore.

you had taken a bath and were now sitting on the edge of the bed, towel-drying your hair while waiting for megumi. that was when he walked out of the bathroom.

uh oh.

he wasn’t wearing a shirt—just a pair of shorts, with a towel slung lazily over his shoulders. you froze for a moment, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were checking him out. great, just great, you thought, internally screaming.

he rubbed the towel through his hair, his raven-black locks spiking in every direction, just the way they always did. only now, for some reason, you couldn’t help but notice how much you wanted to run your hands through it.

your gaze drifted lower—bad idea.

his abs were exactly how you had imagined they’d be. toned, well-defined, and everything else you shouldn’t have been thinking about right now. his frame wasn’t bulky or overly muscular, but lean and athletic, which somehow made him look even hotter.

you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you realized what you were doing. god, i’m disgusting. i’m a total freak, you thought, your cheeks burning.

still, no matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn’t deny it. megumi looked… hot. and that was a problem you weren’t ready to face.

fuck it, am i in love with my bestfriend? you thought. ofcourse not, it's just some sort of a physical attraction that anyone my age would experience.

megumi glanced at you as you sat on the edge of the bed, still busy drying your hair. your damp strands clung to your face, droplets of water sliding down your skin. you weren’t even trying, but somehow you were driving him insane.

his mind short-circuited at that moment, and before he could think, he acted. something inside him snapped, or maybe it was always there, buried beneath layers of self-control. whatever it was, it was enough to make him forget himself.

he stood and walked over to you. you looked up at him, confused. "what?" you asked, your voice curious. "is there something—"

you didn’t get to finish. his hands were on you, pulling you close, and suddenly, his lips were on yours. your eyes widened in shock. megumi just kissed you.

but the real surprise wasn’t that—it was the fact that you didn’t pull away. instead, you kissed him back, meeting his lips with the same passion he gave you. this was your first kiss, and yet, it didn’t feel awkward or clumsy. no, it was perfect. megumi moved with a deliberate slowness, his lips guiding yours like he had done this a thousand times before.

you felt the bed beneath you as he gently pushed you down. his hand slid into yours, pinning it above your head, while the other rested firmly on your waist. everything about the moment felt intense, like the world outside had stopped spinning. you finally understood what those movie scenes meant when the girl’s problems melted away with the perfect kiss. because that’s exactly what was happening. everything—your heartbreak, your doubts—everything faded into nothing.

but then, reality hit you. no. i’m kissing my best friend.

you both pulled away at the same time, your breaths labored, your faces flushed. the realization of the position you were in hit megumi immediately—you, beneath him, your hair splayed out across the bed. and god, you looked good like that. stop, he told himself, forcing the thought away as he climbed off you, running a hand through his hair and fixing his shorts.

shit shit fucking hell you doof.

she’s going to think i’m a pervert, megumi thought, mortified. i messed up. i messed up big time.

on the other hand, your thoughts were spiraling in a completely different direction. oh no. i forced him into this. he didn’t even want this. you cursed at yourself, guilt weighing heavy on your chest.

the two of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, the silence stretching on for what felt like hours. ten minutes passed, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your breaths as both of you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"i—" you both started at the same time before cutting yourselves off.

"no, you go first," you said in unison again, your eyes briefly meeting before you both looked away, cheeks burning.

megumi cleared his throat and started. "i… i didn’t mean to. i was just… you know…" his voice trailed off, unsure of how to explain himself.

you nodded quickly, even though you didn’t understand a thing. "y-yeah. me too. it was totally accidental, and i get it. i understand."

but neither of you did. not really.

the silence returned, this time even heavier than before.

"so, uh, yn… you take the bed, and i’ll go sleep on the couch downstairs," megumi said finally, his voice stiff, his eyes avoiding yours entirely.

"yeah, yeah, sure," you said, nodding like an idiot.

he grabbed a pillow and a blanket from his bed and headed for the door, his movements quick and deliberate. he didn’t even glance back at you as he closed the door behind him.

as soon as he was gone, you cursed at yourself, sinking back onto the bed. what the hell did i just do? this is going to be so awkward from now on. megumi probably hates me now.

you stood up and walked to the door, resting your back against it before sliding down to the floor. you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as your mind raced. he completely has no feelings for me. and i… i don’t have any for him either. right?

on the other side of the door, megumi was sitting in the exact same position as you, his back against the wood, his head buried in his hands.

what have i just done? am i out of my mind? he thought, guilt and frustration swirling inside him.

maybe you were both wrong. or maybe you weren’t.

(umm yeah so that's it i guess? i'm sorry but yeah. i love em though like who's gonna tell them erm..)

lmk if ya'll wanna get tagged for the second part which i'll publish prolly<3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Head in the Clouds IV

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first few months in Barcelona

On the second to last match of the season at Chelsea, you get hurt.

You go to ground instantly and clutch at your leg, shrieking and rolling around on the floor. Your girlfriend is at your side instantly, holding your hand and whispering in your ear.

You tear your hamstring on the second to last match.

Alexia, Marta and Patri watch the replay of it happening a week later after they're told that Barcelona are signing you.

"Is it going to be healed in time?" Patri asks," It looked bad."

"She didn't need surgery and the doctors have given her around ten weeks. She'll be ready in time for the first match of the season."

"She's kind of young," Marta voices her thoughts next.

"So are a lot of our players."

"But they're from La Masia. They've been playing our style of football since they were kids. How do you know she'll do well?"

"We know," The staff respond," She's a great player and Lyon wanted her too. Be happy we snapped her up first."

Alexia sighs. "And what about schoolwork? She's English, right? Is she sticking with an English school or one of ours?"

"Her dad's Spanish," The staff member says," She speaks Spanish too."

Alexia, Marta and Patri frown as Paños walks in nearly ten minutes late.

"What did I miss?"

You don't feature much in their minds until your arrival in Barcelona months later.

A lot of the team are still riding the high of being World Cup winners so you largely go unnoticed for the first few days.

Alexia watches you from a distance though.

The staff said your father was Spanish yet she doesn't recognise you in the slightest. Clearly, you haven't been called up for the Spain youth teams yet so maybe you aren't quite as talented as the club seems to think you are.

You're on the tail end of your rehab so you're not in full training yet and no one's quite seen your skills.

You're not the only new member of the team and with everyone else in training, you fade into the background a bit.

"She looks familiar," Irene notes one day as she watches you pass slowly with one of the trainers.

"Does she? I don't recognise her," Alexia replies.

"No. I'm sure that I know her from somewhere."

It's not until weeks later that Irene knows how she recognises you.

She knows your father is Spanish, most of the team know by now but, like everyone else, she'd assumed that he was Catalan.

So, when Aitana addresses you in Catalan one day and you don't respond, it piques interest.

"You don't speak Catalan?"

"Why would I speak Catalan?"

"Because of your dad?"

"Oh! Papa is Basque so we speak that!"

"L/n?" Irene repeats your last name and you turn to look at her. "Your father doesn't happen to be one of the L/n's from Legazpi?"

"He is! How did you know that?"

A little bubble of laughter escapes Irene. "They used to live next door to me when I was a kid."

"Wow! That's so cool!"

It's another week or so before you join everyone else in training and that's when you make your mark.

You're a natural on the ball, easily cutting through everyone to bury it in the net. You receive passes expertly, bringing the ball down and turning to shoot in the next moment.

Most of all, you look like you're having fun. You look like the kids on the schoolyard do. You look like Alexia felt the first time she watched the men play at Camp Nou with her father.

You have talent, that much is certain.

But talent in training is different to talent in a match.

Since the revelation that you're Basque like her, Irene sticks close to you.

You enjoy her company. With your grandparents across the country, it's nice to speak Basque with someone and Irene's wife and son are so nice and sweet and you find yourself over at her place all the time.

It's at the same time, that Lucy and Keira seem to remember that you're English. It's fun to speak to people in English that understand your slang and Lucy in particular seems to light up when you mention that you've played for the England youth team a few times.

With you fully healed from your injury and the first match of the season coming up, you find yourself subbed on at the same time as Alexia.

She doesn't have high hopes with this being the first match of the season and the team getting back into the rhythm but she can't help but watch as you receive the ball in the midfield.

She expects you to be shut down quickly and pass it off but you avoid everyone that tries to take you down, even neatly leaping over a slide tackle.

You go one on one with the goalkeeper before chipping it over.

Alexia has never quite seen something like that before, especially from one so young.

You get another goal a moment later, nutmegging the keeper on your way and then complete your hattrick with ease with a worldie from outside the box.

A game that would have ordinarily ended 2-1 to Barcelona ends 5-1 because of three perfect goals from you.

You're a talent, Alexia thinks as you rock happily back and forth on your feet as you wait for your Nana and Granddad to come down from the stands.

You're better than a talent and Alexia can see you easily skipping the rest of the youth teams to make it into the senior teams.

She can imagine how easy it would be to link up with you for Spain, delivering pass after pass so you can kick it in easily.

She makes eye contact with Lucy across the pitch and the smirk tells Alexia everything she needs to know.

Lucy wants you for England.

"This is my granddad!" You tell Alexia, holding the hands of an older man with a receding hairline but a face marked with a life well lived and an older woman with a stern look and a walking stick," And my Nana!"

Your Nana says something but it's not the English that Alexia expects.

Her stomach sinks.

"Was that Swedish I heard?" Frido asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Yes!" You say, gesturing to your Nana," She's from Sweden! We speak it at home together."

A thoughtful look appears on Frido's face and Alexia's eyes narrow.

No.

This can't be happening.

The most promising youngster Alexia has seen in years, can't be eligible to play for three different countries.

It's just not possible yet it's the position Alexia finds herself in now.

It's hours later that Olga wakes up to the sound of drilling in the middle of the night. She's got an early morning train to Madrid for work and groans as she's woken up, dragging herself out of bed and wandering down to the basement where the sound is coming from.

Alexia looks manic and Olga's mouth hangs open.

A conspiracy theory style board is screwed into the wall with pieces of string connecting pictures to you in the very centre.

"Ale?" She asks, not willing to believe her eyes," What is this?"

"A family tree!" Alexia replies almost too happily to not be tinged with the edge of sleep deprivation.

"Okay. Why do you have it?"

"I told you about that kid, right? Y/n L/N? Well turns out if she doesn't want to play for Spain then she's got two more countries she can play for! I'm just checking that she's not eligible for anyone else!"

"Alexia...What the hell?! Go to bed!"

"In a minute," Alexia says dismissively," I'm just working out whether any of her parents were adopted or not."

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[kentopedia]

I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

[bluerosefox]

Joker Messed Around and Found Freaking Out.

Okay hear me out..

Class trip to Gotham, class gets held up by Joker who actually can scare the class cause they are still teens and they know Joker has a high kill rate, like yes they're used to ghosts and junk but none of them wanna die yet or at least die outside of Amity, if they die they wanna have a chance of coming back as a ghost at the very least.

Anyways, Danny feels pure dread when Joker takes Jazz hostage, who was elected to be a chaperone for Danny's class since her volunteering would look good on college recommendations, and finds her little mutters about his mental health reminding him of Harley before she left him. He even jokes about needing a new partner and wonders how long it'll take to break her like he did to Harley.

Danny is frozen in his spot but something snaps when he hears Jazz cry out after Joker backhands her. Before anyone, even the Bats, realize it Danny is on top of the Joker beating his face in, he only gets up once, takes Joker's discarded crowbar and slams it over his head, barely grazing the dazed man but it does destroy the flooring behind him, while screaming to never ever touch his sister. That he will destroy Joker if he even thinks about coming after her. That even in the afterlife he'll never be safe from him.

All this happens so fast that by the time the Jocks from Danny's school, Red Hood and Nightwing get Danny off, Joker is beaten badly. He's still feral screaming at Joker though, calling him everything under the sun, spouting off about how the dead are ready to rip him apart when Joker (or you can have Danny call him by his actual name if you wanna strike some "the fuck? How'd he know that?") Finally passes away, that even death will not save him from Danny's wrath. Danny is squirming hard in their holds, nearly breaks free a few times when he hears Joker groaning, but only stops when Jazz, after getting looked over by Red Robin comes running over and just..

Hugs Danny.

And like a kitten getting scuffed by the neck he goes limp. Just breathes heavily, eyes burning from anger, fear, tears, and relief, before he returns the hug. He starts crying and mutters low that he can't lose her, that he almost lost her again and "is this even a fraction how Dan felt when he lost you?"

And Jazz just shushes him and does what she can to comfort him...

[random2908]

Here’s something I’ve told a few people in their mid-late 30s over the past few years. Including myself.

Now’s a great time to take stock:

In order to feel you’re living the life you want, or that you’re who you want to be, what do you want your life to look like at 40? What do you want to have done, what do you want to be doing, what do you want to have? Forget the past, forget missed opportunities--everyone makes bad decisions, everyone misses opportunities, everyone has doors closed, it’s the nature of living in a finite timeline. None of that actually matters to this thought exercise. All that matters is the future, and the present as it relates to the future: what direction are you going in? What direction do you want to be going in?

You don’t have to start from an empty sheet of paper with this thought exercise. Think of all the goals you had when you were younger, maybe in your teens or 20s. Some of those are not still going to be things you want. Some of those you might still want but other things have taken higher priority. But it’s a starting point. Fill out your mental list.

A relationship, or kids, or a house, or a specific career, or specific hobbies or skills, or whatever concrete thing that it is that you want. If what you want is to not be a nobody, well, that’s dumb; nearly everyone’s a nobody to the wider world, and nearly no one’s a nobody to the people close to them. If you pick something abstract like that you can’t ever reach it, because you’ll just keep moving your own goalposts until it becomes something literally impossible.

So make a list of concrete, actionable things that you want.

Circle the one that are most important to you, like, top 2.

Now start walking toward those things.

(When you’re comfortably headed toward those top 2 things that you want, if you still have spare energy you can start going farther down the list. Make your ideal life! But prioritize.)

Do you want more friends, more connections with people? Think of activities that you like--hiking, singing, painting, whatever. Find groups that do those things and become a regular in those groups. For example, instead of painting at home go to some shared studio space (sometimes community centers or community colleges or art institutes have these). Go at the same time every week, so you’re meeting the same people every week, because that’s what it takes to make a connection. Or get on the Sierra Club mailing list or the local county parks mailing list and go on all the hikes. Join a choir, volunteer at a charity, whatever. If you have nothing in particular, but there is a religion you like, start going to religious services, because this is the main reason why other people will be at religious services.  Whatever it is, it will take months--making friends is slow anywhere except a school environment--but it will happen. Don’t say no to invitations unless you really can’t make it, until you have enough of a social life that missing some bonding time with a new person won’t matter. Friendship is 95% just about showing up.

Are you single but want a relationship? Ask your friends to set you up. Set up an account in a dating app. (This is admittedly something I don’t know a ton about--I last went on a date when I was 27, and I last willingly went on a date when I was 23.)

Do you want kids? I know at least two people who have gone the artificial insemination route because they wanted kids so badly they were willing to be single parents. Or, alternatively, go through the process of finding a relationship first. Or, if you’re wealthy enough, some jurisdictions will let single people adopt, so you can look into that. If you really want kids, and you’re in a relationship with someone who doesn’t, your mid-30s are when you have to decide which you want more. (That’s what led to at least one of the artificial insemination decisions among my friends.) (Personally, I did want kids, but not badly enough to be a single mother, and not badly enough to try dating, so I crossed that off my list as non-viable. It’s ok to revise your priorities!)

(Some people--I guess a majority of people--can’t just endogenously produce their own children, so if you’re in that situation, not in a relationship, and you want kids, that’s admittedly going to be harder. You can look for more difficult, creative solutions like adoption, fostering, or even finding a surrogate. Or you can decide some things don’t work out sometimes, grieve a bit, and move on. You can be part of the village helping raise your friends’ kids, at least.)

What about career? Are you ok with your career? Do you want a different one? You know what, you can change careers! You can take night classes. You can just put yourself out there and apply to things you aren’t really qualified and try to learn on the job. I know several people who had huge career changes. My grandfather started an apprenticeship at age 40. A friend of mine, who had been a professional music composer and a science museum docent, decided in their mid-30s to go to grad school, and they’re now a biology professor. I went to trade school for a bit for machining/CNC, and half the students were over 30--some were over 50--looking for a career change. Or if the career’s ok but the job sucks--hit the bricks. I was in what could have been my forever-job last year--certainly my boss assumed I’d be there forever--but I decided I hated my boss and I just walked out. Got a new job doing basically the same thing (just different enough to not violate my non-compete), but out in California--thousands of miles closer to my family, with better weather, better amenities, and (adjusting for cost of living) the same pretty good pay--just two months later. My sister-in-law did the exact same thing last summer, and my brother did the exact same thing the previous year, modulo different locations.

Hobbies? That one’s easy, in principle: set aside some time every weekend and do the hobby you want to do, for at least a couple months.

Travel? There are so many opportunities for travel. If you can’t afford plane tickets--well, my family went on so many cool road trips when I was a kid.

Whatever it is that’s not going the way you want, you can make that change. You can put yourself on the path that you want.

When you get to--well, whatever age, but my case 40--you don’t have to have everything you want. A year ago, when I was handing out this advice, I was confident that I did have everything that I’d decided to prioritize, and at 40 I’d have no regrets. And then I uprooted my whole life in the past several months; I’m about to turn 40 and I don’t still have some of the things I want. But you know what? It’s because I course-corrected. I fixed some things (mainly my work life), and gave up others (mainly, the community I’d built up in Michigan) in the process--but I’m on a better course now. (And just because my old friends aren’t nearby to be community to me anymore doesn’t mean I’ve lost them as friends. It’s not like I’m alone in this world.) I can build new community while not having an abusive boss. At 40, I won’t yet have everything I want, but I’m on the path I want. I’m still actively interrogating my needs as a fully-realized person and turning toward the direction I need to go to meet them, so I still don’t have regrets.

And really, I think that’s what’s important. Not where you are, who you are, what you have right now, but whether you’re headed in the direction you want. And if the answer is no, well, now’s always a great time act on that.

(I’m not saying any of this is easy. Changing your life, if your life isn’t what you want it to be, isn’t easy. I’m just saying, this is a way to do it that’s served me fairly well through my 30s.)

The age thing's a little relevant too. I'm approaching my mid 30's and I just feel adrift, and lost. Nothing in my life's really worked out, I made bad decisions, I missed opportunities, I lost potential. I don't want to live another 40 or so years like this and then die a nobody. I know the "gifted kid" thing is a meme now but everyone thought I had so much potential, including me. And that just makes me feel even worse than if I'd been a loser from the start.

It gets... better? Sort of?

Take everything you have heard about "your potential" and throw it in the trash.

"Potential" is a myth we tell to small children to encourage them to study and work on projects. "Potential" is a way of giving kids a direction and a reason to focus on their interests. Small children have no context for understanding what they could be doing a year, five years, twenty years from now - they just know what they can do right now, and that it doesn't include "build a whole car" or "paint beautiful sunsets" or "write a book" or "be Mayor of Can Town" or "overthrow the Dark Lord and put his minions in wizard-prison" or whatever.

So we tell them: You have potential, which means, You share some personality traits and innate talents with people who have done these things. It gives kids something to aim for. "You have a lot of potential" means "you share a lot of traits with people who are famous for doing these things."

At no point does anyone tell you how many not-famous not-rich just-muddling-by people also have those traits. At no point does anyone say, "You have a terrific singing voice and perfect pitch so you could be a famous musician OR... you could be like Mrs Thomson who plays piano and leads the church choir in a tiny church with 37 weekly attendees and gets paid a $40/week stipend for it, and she also works 5 days a week in the chicken-packing plant."

By the time you are an adult, that is no longer meaningful. You know how to assess your skills, and what kinds of skills you might like to develop, and which of them you'd be good at. (And by "good at," I mean, "good enough to enjoy practicing them and get results that make you happy." I assure you that I am a mediocre cook at best, but I have the level of cooking skills I want, and I know I could develop more if I cared to.)

It's also easy to get intimidated by the people around you, who've developed expertise in areas you have not, especially in areas that you'd like to have more skill.

I promise you that you have expertise in areas other people want. (Because. Here you are, in your 30s, talking to strangers on the internet, and trying to figure out what to do next with your life. THOSE ARE SKILLS. Really. Even the "try to figure out" part; there are people who feel absolutely stuck in life and have no idea why, don't even know how to realize they want something to be different. And I'm betting you have other skills that aren't apparent in an anonymous ask.)

Ignore your "potential" and focus on what do you want to do?

Maybe throw a few thoughts towards "what kind of world do I want to live in, and what would I do if I were living in that world?" but don't put a lot of energy into fantasies about "if we had clean energy and robust anti-capitalist legislation and UBI and..." (I mean. Spend all the time you want on those. But those aren't part of sorting out "what do I do with my life now?") So: if you want to live in a world where neighbors welcome each other to the community with a casserole, then go talk to your neighbors, even if you feel awkward about it. If you want to live in a world with active, thriving libraries, go borrow some books from your local library. If you want to live in a world where you own your digital purchases, learn how to strip the DRM from ebooks. And so on.

If you're running into self-worth issues, consider who the Republican party is running for office, and remind yourself that you are not worse than them, and if they "deserve" money and power and fame, you at least deserve to be comfortable. (Whether they "deserve" what they have or not, they have it, so you might as well decide you deserve some friends and some entertainments and a job you don't hate.)

If you're running into "but all that seems like a lot of effort and I don't know if I have the energy" - pick something smaller as a first goal. Don't write the novel; write one scene that's stuck in your head, one bit of dialogue that makes you want to tell the story around it. Put it in a private file just for you. Start a collection of story fragments.

tl;dr umm...

We're all just muddling along. Really. We're stuck in a capitalist hellscape together. Find something you care about and let yourself be obsessed with it. Give yourself permission to be bad at it. Give yourself permission to just do the 5% you enjoy.

Don't count your achievements by starting with a list of things you haven't done.

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.